Flying Together
by FearMyPen
Summary: After Xander and Ronan they are known to the public as the famous Guardians of the Galaxy. Made up of six infamous misfits just trying to make a living they lie, cheat, steal, maim, hunt, and dance their way across the galaxy...trying not to kill each other in the process. [Includes OC. Sequel to other story. Does not follow any movie. Far future possibly OC/Rocket]
1. So It Begins

**HELLO FANDOM!**

 **First a bit of background. I wrote this way back in 2015 for my Nanowrimo (if you don't know what that is I highly recommend you check it out) and it's been sitting on my desktop ever since driving me crazy. I have finally gotten around to cleaning it up to start posting right before the second movie comes out. I wanted to post before than because my version will be vastly different for many reasons. I'm not sure how chapters will be spaced out because I still have to edit them, but we shall see how it goes.**

 **This story is a sequel of The Girl Who Wanted to Fly but you really only need to read the first two chapters for this story to make sense, if even that. (though as a self plug I would recommend reading that story as well, I can honestly say it's not terrible)**

 **Now with the exception of some of the characters I did actually create most of this story. The plot, Philly, the places the team visits, other things that will come later, all belong to me. I don't own Guardians of the Galaxy, one or two, but would like to personally thank James Gunn for them.**

 **I hope you all enjoy,  
Pen**

* * *

A figure, feminine and dark, ran across the squashed together rooftops that made up the city of Corecasute. Hidden from anyone at street level, her strides were light and sure footed, maneuvering the dingy, sun-bleached tiles that made up most of the surrounding roofs with practiced ease. She was tall for a female, by most human standards, with green skin that stood out sharply next to her tight black clothes.

Coming to a street crossing, Gamora braced her feet for a split second on the building's edge before springing to the next roof top and landing with a feline-like grace that spoke years of honing and conditioning. Her pray was an armored land-speeder cruising along in blissful ignorance three stories below her. It slowed slightly at a stop sign and swung a right turn down another equally worn in street. This district was well broken in with visible cracks in the streets and sidewalks, paint peeling off some of the lamp posts, and a thin layer of grime gathered at every other corner. It was crowded; even now when it was well past mid-day meal time in the planet's rotation.

The vehicle pulled to a stop outside of a bank where one man jumped to the sidewalk, a locked brief-case handcuffed to his wrist and strolled lazily to the bank's entrance . He wore a thick vest around his torso which added four inches to his girth and had a clunky looking blaster strapped to his right hip.

On the roof top Gamora waited patiently and motionless, crouched behind a low wall. She spoke lowly, reporting every move into a short range communicator that was snugly jammed in her ear.

" _We're about three blocks away from you_." Peter Quill informed her, his voice was uncharacteristically serious. " _Hold position until further orders._ "

Gamora indulged in an internal sigh and a half roll of her eyes. This was their first 'official' mission as a teaShe frowned slightly, tracking the truck with dark eyes fixated like a jungle cat targeting her pray.

Inside the truck its armed and occupants joked and talked and made idal guesses about their cargo. m; meaning it was sanctioned by a government. She had known, just by watching how his posture had shifted in the meeting with Nova Core, that the legality and formality of the request had gone straight to Peter's head.

Her sharp eyes scanned the street around the target. She could just pick out the point team who were stationed at street level in two different locations. Drax and Quill, identifiable by their matching Ravenger red jackets, were lounging near a food shuttle which was parked at the corner of the street. Peter was chatting up the man at the counter while Drax devoured whatever greasy, close enough to edible thing they served. Groot could be easily picked out in any crowd. He stood, partly stooped over, with his face close to on of the fenced in trees planted in the sidewalk at an interval. Though she could now see him, Gamora knew, or rather trusted, that Rocket was near him.

Her eyes flickered to the parked target. After the truck's cargo, a small black, unmarked box, was picked up and the guard was back inside, Drax would immobilize him; Groot's job was the driver and the door. The security system along with the passwords stored in the truck's memory were Rocket's problems. When the plan was completed the team would scattered contact Philly who, with the Milano, was waiting to extract and fly them into deep space before anyone could contact sector security. They'd be able to deliver the target to Nova Core with in Xander's next full planetary rotation as promised; getting payed and brownie points from the Core. In theory. If everything went to plan.

If they didn't kill each other first.

"Do not move until I give the signal." Gamora warned yet again. For her plan to work the box had to be in the truck and the guards immobilized before they could activate security protocols, which would delete the information they needed.

" _I do not see the benefit of waiting for our target to be in position,_ " Drax interjected, " _When we could simply take the target now and immobilize the truck later._ "

Rocket jumped in at once, " _I'm with Major Literal over here. Let's take 'um out separately and get it over with_."

" _Because I've got a plan that's why,_ " Peter defended. Gamora cringed as sloppy chewing came over the comms with his voice, " _And as the leader of the Guardians of the Galaxy I say we-_ "

 _"_ _Chew, swallow than talk, Peaty-boy."_ Philly cut him off, _"and I don't remember when exactly we made you our leader._ "

" _When Nova made me responsible for all of you right before we flew off on my ship!_ " he retorted. From her vantage point Gamora saw him throw the half eaten food into the nearest waste basket.

" _Our ship._ " Philly snapped, almost automatically.

Peter huffed back at her, " _Whatever, Philly. That doesn't matter right now. What matters is we have a job to do and a plan to do it. Are we all clear on what to do?_ "

There was a beat of radio silence.

" _Seriously? Were any of you listening to my presentation?_ " The Terrain demanded, a slight squawk of indignation in his voice.

" _One truck, mines two guards and a driver, plus a code splicing bounty hunter, equals brownie point from Nova Core. Right?_ " Philly recited. There was a slight buzzing from the ship's engines on her side of the radio behind her voice.

" _Come on, guys I didn't make those slides 'cause I was board_." Peter said with a slight whine in his voice.

" _Perhaps you should have made them more interesting_." Drax suggested in all seriousness. It was followed by an agreeing, " _I am Groo_ t."

Gamora's sharp voice cut off the chatter, "Target incoming."

The four males turned in unison, some being subtle and others less so, toward the guard strolling easily out of the bank. There was a sturdy looking lockbox handcuffed to his wrist that was swinging carelessly with his arms. Gamora could hear him whistling a merry tune through the comms from Peter's ear piece which was just close enough to pick it up.

"Get ready." Gamora murmured.

The man, instead of getting back into the truck, struck up a conversation with the driver, leaning against the door. They were both grinning and at one point the driver laughed loudly. The guard's shoulders moved with his own laughter. Neither looked in a hurry.

" _Let's move!_ " Rocket said suddenly.

"NO!" Gamora told him firmly, "We wait until he gets in the truck. If they see us coming and trigger the alarm all of the computer system's data will be wiped and will not be able to be recovered. We must wait." She took a leap off the building into an alley and landed in a neat roll at street level.

" _We can move fast enough_." Rocket said suddenly.

Through the crowd Gamora could see the driver and the guard converse. And could also see Rocket, perched on Groot's shoulder, eyeing the case impatiently. "We need both at the same time." Gamora answered back.

" _I am Groot._ "

To which Rocket was talking to it wasn't clear but he retorted very defensively, " _Yes we can! Drax, Quill, are you two with me?_ "

" _Why would I be with you? This is my plan!_ "

" _I am with you, friend Rocket! Let us vanquish these bothersome beings and take what is ours!_ " Drax laughed loudly, seemingly to himself and several people eyed him warily.

Rocket cackled, and the radio picked up the unmistakable sound of his hand built blaster booting up, ready to fire. " _Effing, yeah. We're moving, with or with out you guys_."

Gamora grit her teeth and had to mentally hold herself back form marching across the street and causing the two of them physical pain, the only question would haven been which first. "Both of you hold. Wait for the green light and stick to the plan."

" _I'm done with wait'n, Greenie._ "

There was a panicked " _I am Groot!_ " as a warning before the truck was hit in the side by a close range plasma missile. It was the exploding kind that made a lot of noise and gave off a bright flash which left everyone around it in a daze.

But for those who knew what was going on Groot's warning was enough advance notice to take cover, shut their eyes and stuff their fingers in their ears. For a moment all Peter could register was Philly screeching in his ear, demanding to know what had happened.

" _Rocket blew up the truck._ " he spat out, racing towards it as soon as his feet stayed under him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Gamora flip the guard to the pavement before he could draw his gun. The case that he was holding onto out of reflex was twisted out of his grip and the flimsy chain attaching it to his wrist was snapped between her fingers like it was nothing. At the same time Drax and Groot were prying the back doors off their hinges. The bullet proof, reenforced doors gave slowly with creaking and groaning under the two's combined strength.

Peter, blaster set on stun, fired three quick shots in rapid secession at the driver. The third one made contact and the driver slumped forward in his seat, forehead hitting the steering wheel and causing the horn to blare obnoxiously. Rocket slipped through the warped doors as soon as the opening was large enough and went to work getting the information out of the truck's database.

Drax collected the driver and the man Gamora had knocked unconscious, arranging their unmoving bodies on a nearby bus station bench, then plopped down beside them. Groot, Peter, and Gamora, holding onto the case, tried to look as causal as possible and were failing miserably. Civilians either pasted them at a near sprint or stared dumbly at the wreckage. Sirens rang through the streets in the distance, bouncing and echoing off the buildings.

"Hurry up, Rocket." Peter warned tensely.

"Just a minute, Quill."

"…Rocket."

The bounty hunter's upper lip curled back in a reflexive snarl. His acute hearing could pick out the people outside. They were whispering words like 'robbers' and 'terrorists', could hear the sirens of the local law enforcement racing closer and he idly wondered who'd called them.

"Rocket!" Quill said again, much louder this time.

"Almost done, don't get ya panties in a knot!" He yelled back. The computer system was slightly more advanced then they'd anticipated and the data was being wiped faster then he'd calculated. They were losing what they needed for Nova Core.

Someone yanked open the doors opened and the dimly lit compartment was flooded with afternoon sun that blinded him for an instant. "We have to move now." Quill said so firmly Rocket did't argue.

When he got outside it was too late. The truck was completely surrounded on all sides. Groot, Drax, and Gamora, the case between her ankles, had their hands raised above their heads. About twenty officers had low tech blasters aimed in their direction and one man who seemed to be in charge was barking at them all to step out of the truck and get on the ground slowly.

Peter shot Rocket a dirty look as they did which he made sure the bounty hunter would see. "I can't believe you, Rocket."

"So what?" He rolled his eyes, "I told you I was going."

Peter sputtered, "And I told you to stick to the plan!"

The captain barked at them to be quite.

"Oh, like you've never improvised."

"That's not the point. You're not the one who gets to tell Nova Core why we lost the data, and you know what? You're the reason Philly's going to be insufferable after this."

"She'll get over herself sooner or later."

"Quiet!"

A low hum rumbled through the streets to slowly drown out the officer's yelling. It rose in volume until people stopped, their heads whipping up to the sky to see where it was coming from. A ship painted blue with orange rose off of the tallest roof top on the street and glided down in between the buildings. The air around them became warm as the Milano's thrusters kept the ship in the air. Philly's voice, slightly distorted and crackly, sounded from the speakers, effectively overpowering every other sound, " _Attention everyone. We mean you no harm. Please allow us to escape and we will allow you to go back to whatever it was you were doing._ "

All the officers paused in various stages of confusion or shock, all gaping at the ship that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Gamora, kneeling and with her fingers laced behind her head, pushed herself back on her toes to a coiled squat. Her hands slowly moved to press down on the pavement, ready to spring up. Quill did the same, though he nearly fell leaning back.

The law enforcement's guns retrained on the Milano at the captain's order. He turned his megaphone on the ship as well, "Stand down or we will open fire on you."

Philly tried not to laugh but couldn't stop all of it from leaking into her reply, " _you'll what? You do realize this is a starship and those are land blasters, right?_ "

There was a beat where all the officers seemed to consider her point. The Milano's forward weapons systems activated in an impressive display of strength.

"What is she doing?" Gamora hissed at Peter.

He shrugged as best he could resting his hands on the ground, "showing off."

"FIRE!"

The order was punctuated by an enthusiastic hand gesture that nearly pulled the captain off his feet with its force. Lasers _popped_ out of the low tech weapons and tore through the air, bouncing harmlessly off the Milano's underbelly with dull clanks. In retaliation Milano's guns released a flurry of its own laser blasts. They peppered equally as harmlessly around the people, embedding fist sized craters into the street and the police vehicles. In this distraction, planned for just such an occasion, the rest of the team all scattered in different directions. Peter ducked into a shop and slipped out the back, climbing a fire escape to the roof. Groot, with Rocket perched on his shoulder, tore down the street and tuned a corner never slowing pace. Down the opposite way of the street, Gamora turned into an ally way holding the case tightly.

Drax, at the bus station bench, had been far enough away form the truck to not be targeted by the officers. They, by this time, had recovered from their fright and were organizing a chase after the fugitives. He reported this to the communication devise in her ear then trotted towards the rendezvous point.

Philly, up in the Milano, received the rough coordinates form the rest of her team. She lowered the cargo ramp and unlocked the loading doors with the flips of a few switches. She narrowed in on the locations she was receiving, making use of the open channel they were using the whole way.

"I can't believe you guys!" The ship rotated around to back up to Peter's location, "we defeated Ronan. Remember him? Power mad Kree warlord with a magic thingy in a hammer?"

Peter rolled his eyes and didn't say anything. He'd learned from experience to refrain from patronizing his pilot until after she'd saved his butt. With aid from his boosters he stumbled inside the ship's cargo hold and climbed up the ladder that led to the rest of the ship; bracing himself against the kitchen table. "I'm in."

The ship gave a rather violent lunge just like he had known it would, just like it always did when something like this happened. Now he'd have to put up with Philly telling him just how much and where he'd screwed up. At least it wasn't his fault this time. Heck, if Peter was really, really lucky she would rightfully take it out on Rocket.

Gamora's leather heeled boots made sharp clicks on the hollow drura steel floor and Peter slumped a little more casually in his seat. The green skinned woman's head poked up through the wide hatch at the end of the room. Her mouth was pressed together in a thin line and was pulled down at the corners.

Though Peter hadn't known her very long and the expression didn't look terribly out of place on her, he was very good at reading people and other beings with facial expressions. He could tell she was extremely unhappy.

Gamora's dark eyes trained in on him and her frown deepened. Peter gulped and took up an offensive measure before she could direct her negative emotions on him.

"Can you believe Rocket?" he scooted over enough for her and was ignored it in favor of standing near to stove silently; one hand resting lightly on it for balance and the other propped on her hip.

He pressed on; shaking his head disapprovingly, "We had a solid plan and he just threw it out the window. No regard for any of us." Peter swallowed again thickly and waited a beat for her to respond.

"It was unacceptable." Gamora finely said. Peter's body relaxed and he started to respond when the ship tilted abruptly until they were nearly flying sideways. He snapped his mouth closed so fast he grazed his tongue with his teeth. Used to the erratic and slightly reckless ways of Philly's flying Peter buckled down and braced his hands on the table. Gamora, on the other had ended up on the floor with her limbs twisted every which way. Peter had to force himself to give her a hand up instead of admiring the view. A moment later Drax clamored up the ladder a fierce scowl etched into his face.

"We should not have run like cowards or waited for our prey! We should have fought and conquered." His deep voice rumble and he somehow stayed easily upright through all the motion. "We should have won!"

"We were trying to not draw attention to ourselves by sticking to the plan." Peter retorted, "We can't do secret work for Nova Core if we setting off explosives in the middle of a city!"

"If our tactics had been direct from the start with no hesitation we would not have accomplished the same goal, only faster." He said simply.

By now the Milano had leveled off and Peter could feel they were ascending. He wondered briefly if Philly was leaving Rocket and Groot behind when the ship slowed ever so slightly and gave a subtle dip to the starboard side like it always did when someone heavy jumped on the wing.

They could hear the doors and loading ramp sealing and the main thrusters activating. The ship's nose pulled toward the upper atmosphere and outer space where the law enforcement had no jurisdiction.

…

It was a tense ride to the nearest planet in the sector. with an underworld. There would be bouts of snapping tensions when one or more of the team was in the same area of the ship before someone would storm off in search of alone time. A tough feat in a compact ship with six beings on it. The friction in the recycled air was negative and fit to burst by the time Milano set down on a dingy landing pad and settled docking arrangements. The forced and faux peace did hold out to the nearest bar but only really lasted until they parted ways just inside the door.


	2. Make Ups

Peter Quill made a bee line for the end of the bar farthest from the door. His first drink was drowned in one go but the second he sipped more slowly.

"Rough day." A low, scratchy voice off his left elbow drawled.

Peter didn't turn around right away, smirking into the rim of his glass. It was no accident he'd chosen a seat next to the scantly dressed female with feline features. "The worst," he half turned his head toward her. "Though I've got a feeling it might be picking up."

She giggled in a throaty way only her race could. He introduced himself and bought her next round.

…

Across the room Rocket was perched on the bar nursing a tall glass of Askavarian whiskey. Groot sat in the seat in front of him, long twiggy legs folded in on themselves to fit under the bar. To their right Drax was drowning a drink so large both his hand couldn't span the glass.

The tree man had grown back nicely since Xandar, nearly doubling in size every week until he was back to his normal hight, albeit noticeably thinner. Rocket worried about that. No matter how much he denied it, Groot knew his friend too well and knew Rocket's unique way of showing his affection.

A corner of the cargo hold had been cleared and sun lamps had been set up with Drax's help. Philly and Peter hadn't been too thrilled to come home and find their cargo space cut down but they understood and let it be. Groot had tried to apologize and though the words themselves hadn't been understood, they got gist.

The idea caught on and next port Groot had watched an extra water tank be set up by Philly and Gamora. A few extra bags of fertilizer and plant food were wheeled over by Peter and Drax. Groot, barely bigger then Rocket at the time, grinned up at them to show his thanks. He'd have asked Rocket to translate but for just this once didn't want what he wanted to say be paraphrased or dripping in sarcasm. Not that he minded, but just that once when they were all working together, when no one was arguing or stepping on each other's toes, the tree man had wanted it to last as long as possible.

Groot had thought things were looking up but here he was, not even four weeks later listening to Rocket and Drax complain about the team to each other.

…

Gamora didn't drink. She had been taught the need for alcohol consumption was a weakness and never had the chance or guts to rebel against Thanos in this way before. And certainly not for something as trivial or useless like a glass of anything that would impair her ability to think and react.

Philly couldn't drink. Zeldonians had notoriously, tragically, even hilariously low alcohol tolerances. So seeing the other female who seemed dead set on standing stiffly in the door way, and that the boys had basically abandoned them, Philly decided to introduce Gamora to some of her favorite versions of booze from her planet of origin.

"It's bubbling." Gamora noted, eyeing the tall skinny glass critically. Philly nodded watching expectantly with her chin resting on the palm of her hand.

"Why is it bubbling?"

"It's fizzing. Try it, you might like it."

Gamora frowned suspiciously, it had not escaped Gamora's notice that Philly's drink remained untouched as well. But the day had been long and very disappointing and in the sprint of whatever was left of their camaraderie after today, Gamora took a sound gulp on the bubbling, tinted pink liquid. Philly took a much smaller sip of her own yellow colored drink.

Gamora's eyes widened and she had to force herself to swallow. Whatever this was it wasn't alcohol, at least from what she understood of the substance. It was sweet like syrup but worse. Like raw sugar poured into water and made to bubble. It was how Gamora imagined liquidated candy might taste.

Philly giggled at her expression, "Zeldonian's have an inherited sweet tooth."

"And a terrible taste in booze." A male voice said behind them.

The two women turned around on their barstools, one with a slightly annoyed look and the other with a slightly murderous expression. The speaker was a humanoid, haggard and bent over slightly with advancing age. His hair was curly and dark with large patches of grey starting to appear. He smiled at the two, the pronounced wrinkles around his eyes deepening.

When the women's faces remained hostile, his shoulders slumped and his near-white eyes zeroed in on Philly, "You know I went through a lot of trouble to track you down, kiddo. The least you can do is recognize me."

Philly's eyebrows furrowed searching the face that felt so familiar but couldn't be placed. The stranger stuffed one hand in his pocket and used the other to ruffle up his hair.

Philly's face lit up, "MAC!"

Mac had just enough time to brace for impact before the pint sized Zeldonian leaped from her barstool to his arms. Just like that he was sweeping her off her feet and swinging her around like she was seven years old again.

…

Down at the other end of the room, Peter's attention was jerked from the feline like beauty on his arm to his pilot's exclamation. With a wistful sideways glance he decided meeting someone who Philly was allowing to pick her up and spin her around like a youngling was an opportunity he couldn't miss. The Terran excused himself, almost sitting back down when her full, grey lips formed into a pout so perfect Peter wouldn't have been at all surprised if she practiced it in the mirror.

But the Star-Lord stayed strong, walking slightly faster then necessary over to the large booth Gamora, Philly, and the stranger had moved to. Philly was grinning ear to ear just like the time Peter agreed to devote an entire shelf in the pantry to sweets. She started waving madly for him to come over when she saw him hesitating.

As soon as he was within hearing range Philly yelled her introductions, "Peter! This is Mac. He was the communications guru on the _Queen Mai_. Mac, this is Peter Quill. We run a ship together."

"And save the galaxy on the side." Mac added, reached out to shake Peter's hand.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mac. Call me Star-Lord." The Terran grinned, noting the strong, calloused grasp.

The older Human gave Peter a puzzled look that was nearly identical to the one Philly had given him when they had first met.

"Or Quill." He shrugged nonchalantly, "Quill works too."

"Anyway," Mac chuckled, "I heard Ronan was on Xandar along with some rumors Nova Core needed help from a bunch of escaped criminals, including a blue-haired Zeldonian. I had some down time so I thought I'd make an adventure out of it."

"And here you are." Philly chirped. She had not stopped grinning since they'd sat down, if anything her smile had grown.

"I was cleaning out my attic and found enough memorabilia of you to make a box. I brought it with me if you want it."

Philly tore her eyes away from what had to be her tenth once over of her friend, "Of course! Wow, Mac it's…just so surreal to see you."

"It's nice to meet an old friend of Philly's that actually wants to talk to her and isn't her mom." Peter teased, flicking at the pilot's pig-tail buns.

"Same people skills I see." Mac clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "That's sad, kiddo."

"No," She answered, "the sad part is I've got some of the best people skills on the team."

Mac's laugh was as ready and genuine as Philly remembered, if a bit hoarser. Peter and Philly joined in and Gamora gave her best attempt at a smile for the sake of politeness.

Philly stood up, "You still drinking the same thing?"

"How else 'll I know I'll like it?" The old spacer chuckled, nodding.

She rolled her eyes and said she would be right back before disappearing into the crowd.

"Kiddo has changed quite a bit." Mac mused.

Peter nodded in agreement as best as he could taking a sip of his drink, "So, Mac…do you have any stories about 'kiddo' you want to tell?"

…

Philly flounced to the bar; right towards the other half of her team. The tiny Zeldonian squeezed in between Groot's rough, bark covered shoulders and Drax's broad, muscled ones, looping her arms around their elbows.

"How's a goin'?"

Groot grinned down at her in greeting. "I am Groot."

"We are getting better with every glass we consume." Drax informed her with tipsy revelry.

Rocket didn't even look up, though his ears flicked towards her direction. Philly didn't blame him in the slightest after the chewing out she had given his on the ride over, but then she'd done that to everyone. Maybe Rocket just shouldn't take things so personally, she mused flagging down the bartender and placing her drink order.

"So listen, fellas" Philly said turning her attention back to the boys. "An old friend of mine tracked me down and we're all over in a booth in that corner catching up. If you boys want to get over our stupid and pointless fight and join us, I would really appreciate it."

When no one responded and the drinks came she threw in an extra incentive, "If you come over and quit holding grudges on you own teammates I'll buy your next round."

That was all Drax really needed. He wasn't specifically mad with Philly so he stood, his hulking form towering over his smaller friend as they left. Rocket snorted in disgust as the so called destroyer trotted after Philly like a puppy looking for a treat. It was an analogy that got more twisted the more Rocket thought about it.

So he took another drink and didn't.

Or tried not to.

"I am Groot." The tree man beckoned, half standing. One of his hands was out stretched so his companion had a direct route to his bark covered shoulders.

"I don't wan' ta." Rocket snapped back.

Groot sat back down slowly. The hopeful smile was gone and his head and posture, for lack of a better word, wilted ever so slightly.

"Go over with out me." The smaller bounty hunter dismissed with a wave of his clawed hand. Groot didn't move except to rest his head on a hand. He sat still, watching Rocket with his deep brown eyes.

Rocket tried to resist, he really did. But unfortunately for him they had known each other for to long. Rocket found himself giving in and a few minutes later sitting down at the booth. Still upset, Gamora gave the two a frosty welcome but Peter, more then slightly intoxicated at this point, seemed to have forgiven them.

Philly was sitting as close as she could to the old human male called Mac. She explained that the freighter Mac worked on when he was young had bought a six year old Philly to be a cabin girl of sorts from a back world planet.

"That grouchy old cook was losing his eye sight and needed someone competent to order around and do chores." Philly grumbled at the thought.

"Too bad he got stuck with you," Mac teased. "Instead of someone who could actually cook."

"I was miserable." Philly went on, "then one day it became my job to take food up to the pilot, a huge lizard we called Tuppie. It means small in some language. Hey…you hear about him?"

Mac sighed, rubbing his hand down his face and fingered the rim of his glass, "Yeah. Died in his sleep. I always thought he'd go out in a fiery ship crash or something dramatic."

Philly gave a short laugh, "Yeah, the way he flew, that sounds more like him."

The was a moment of silence that was broken by Mac raising his glass in a toast, "To Tuppie."

"Clear skies and welcoming ports." Philly answered taking a gulp of her drink along with the rest of her team.

…

As Gamora listened curiously to the story she realized just how little they all really knew about each other. And how completely they had trusted each other on Xandar. It was nothing other than shocking how comfortable she had become to nearly complete strangers in such a short amount of time. It was a scary notion and a puzzling one.

She pondered it as she inspected the new drink Philly had set before her. Out of respect and custom and the fact it was the only nearby drink, this was what she toasted to the Zeldonian's dearly departed. Gamora was pleasantly surprised to find she liked this new drink. It was not sweet but not quite sour and gave a light, warm feeling from her toes to the tips of her ears.

She caught Philly's raised eye brow expression and gave a nod of approval. Philly grinned and went on telling them about Tuppie and how the pilot would leave the doors open while he ate.

"I remember the first time I passed by when you were waiting for him to finish." Mac cut in to the pilot's story. "Your face was…you were in awe of that view screen. Looked like you'd found the fountain of all wealth and knowledge."

"It felt like I did." Philly admitted. "From that first glimpse of the galaxy all I ever wanted to do was be a pilot. Tuppie taught me just about everything I know about flying and taking care of my ship. I really owe him."

Mac chuckled and dug something out of his pocket, "Speaking of nostalgia. Here's what made me come track you down." He tossed it slightly toward her face and Philly caught it easily. It was a data stick about the size of her thumb, the kind you plug into a system to view.

"Remember when I went through my photography phase?"

"No." Philly looked puzzled.

The old spacer rolled his eyes, "Well I went through a photography phase and you, being so adorable back then, were one of my favorite subjects. Found a data base in my attic and made a copy of the best ones." Mac said, "This one's yours but take care of it 'cause it's the only one you're getting."

"Your trust is overwhelming." Philly deadpanned, "But I just so happen to keep very good track of my things, thank you very much."

"Well I should hope you learned you lesson after you somehow misplaced an entire escape pod." Mac laughed at his friend's plummeting expression. "So you do remember that."

Peter snickered at the pilot who's ears had turned red. It clashed horribly with her blue hair. "How did you lose an entire escape pod?"

"It was not my fault!" she exclaimed, a little too quickly.

"You are denying what seems to be fact," Drax stated slamming his ninth drink onto the table and swaying slightly.

…

A half an hour later Drax was officially cut off. Philly had started giving him soda mixed with water and a shot of fruit flavor. She told him it was from her home planet where booze this strong was illegal just about everywhere else in the galaxy and he was none the wiser. Peter had a little more self restraint and was just sober enough to witness the result of Philly giving Gamora her first real alcoholic drink. The green skinned woman was a wobbly drunk and blinked way more then anyone needed to. Her words were getting more and more slurred and her head kept lolling to one side or the other. Peter climbed out of his seat and scooted her further into the booth so she didn't fall out and hurt herself, he claimed.

Rocket had relaxed enough to crack a smile and a few jokes. Philly stuck with her Zeldonian non-alcoholic stuff and made sure everyone had enough. Groot was on his fifth glass of water.

"Careful, big guy." Peter laughed, "you don't want to get a hangover!"

Philly rolled her eyes and said to Groot, "don't worry, we'll be the ones laughing tomorrow." The tree man nodded in agreement watching Gamora mimic Peter and drowned the rest of her drink, Rocket did the same and when all three, four including Drax, slammed their empty glasses down on the table. Gamora looked around almost fearfully at the rest of her team.

"I'm sorry I am so bossy," She slurred. Philly's jaw dropped and she was hit with a powerful urge to recored whatever this was…so she did. It was always helpful to have a recording devise on hand in her line of work.

"You are bossy," Rocket agreed. "And unreasonable, and controlling…" He trailed off and was leaning on the napkin holder for support. "but you weren't wrong and I was a jackass."

"No I was a jackass." Peter interrupted in a slur. He nodded like he was a bobble head set off in zero gravity, "I think I should say sorry."

"…Well?" Rocket asked after a moment, breaking the expectation that was being directed towards Peter.

"What?" He asked, confused.

"Aren't you going to say it?"

"say what?" Peter asked Rocket.

"Say sorry!"

"Didn't I just say it?"

…

About twelve hours later Groot and Philly sat in the cockpit. One was chatting and the other nodded along with her words to show he understood. Philly was complaining how the smuggler hidey hole hadn't been installed by Nova Core when they rebuilt the ship when she was interrupted by a ruckus from downstairs.

"Let's go see if they remember forgiving each other last night," Philly said putting the Milano on auto-pilot and grabbing her recording devise.

Groot followed her down the stairs to find the kittion in complete darkness. A moan Philly recognized as Peter's erupted from somewhere on the floor.

"Do not make noise." Gamora's voice groaned back from leaning against the oven or some bit of wall close to it.

Drax's low rumble sounded from the general direction of the table, "it might have been unwise to drink so much."

"Ya think?" Rocket snapped back from the counter or in that general direction.

"Are you guys friends again?" Philly asked, a little louder then she really needed to.

Her response was a collective groan and Peter begging for a pain reliever. She repeated the question but louder.

"Yes! Fine you win." Rocket yelled, "we all love each other and are all the bestist of friends again, no power in the galaxy could tear us apart as long as we have the power of friendship. Now for the love of all that is dark and quiet will you please with shut up or get us some pain reliever?!

Philly, not put off by the bounty hunter's out burst asked into the darkness, "Drax, do you agree?"

"I agree." He said in surrender.

"Peter?"

"You did this on purpose." He practically growled in answer to her very cheerful tone, hastily adding, "agreed."

"Gamora?"

"I am never drinking again." She moaned, "but, yes, I agree."

"Fantastic!" the pilot chirped and clapped her hands together invoking more sounds of complaint and misery from the dark room. "Groot you give our poor friends some water and I'll go find the hangover kit."

"I am Groot." He rumbled, clapping his hands to copy his friend.

"Come on you two," Peter wined. "We're all dying over here so the least you could do is not act so damn cheerful about it."


	3. Hunting Bounties

**Hello all,**

 **First off I want to thank all of you people for supporting my stories by following/favoriting, leaving a review, or just reading; it means a lot to me. Second, from observing my past patterns and how much free time I seem to have, I'm going to try and post on a bi-weekly bases. However I cannot make any concert promises. And lastly,** **I hope you all enjoy this chapter**

* * *

"Can I come?"

"No."

Philly's hopeful smile dropped and she twisted to shoot a glare sideways, "Why not?"

"Because you'd get in the way." Rocket answered simply, not looking up from his custom blaster that was half-way unbuilt in his lap and in the process of being cleaned. They were in the Milano's cockpit, Philly flying and Rocket in the co-pilots seat. He claimed it was the only quiet place to work. Which was true enough, everyone else was downstairs doing whatever they did when they were in deep space.

"Peter lets me come."

"And when he goes off to do whatever it is you guys do, you can go with him," Rocket replied, "Bounty hunting is dangerous and a lot harder then bone picking and if you still complain about your one day in the Kyln there'll never be an end if you come with."

Philly huffed at the jab and at the insulting term for one of her chosen professions. "It'd be the nice thing to do."

"I don't do nice things." He countered.

Philly frowned and demanded, "Well what should the rest of us be doing while you and Groot are hunting bounties?"

"I don't know, whatever you feel like." Rocket shrugged, unsnapping a small component and holding it at his eye level for inspection, "That's not my problem."

"You should take us all with you." The Zeldonian pressed further, "It'd be a team building exercise."

"No."

Philly closed her lips together in a thin line and counted to three. She switched tactics.

"But it would be good for Peter to not be in charge for at least one mission."

…

"Alright here's the deal." Rocket marched down the loose line the others had formed in the cargo bay. His clawed hands were clasped behind his back. Five pairs of eyes followed him as the bounty hunter reached Peter at the end of the line and turned on his heal to march in the other direction. "I'm in charge. That means you all do whatever I say, when I say, no exceptions. Got it?"

The question got a chorus of 'sure' and 'yeah', along with a few shrugs.

Rocket raised a skeptical eyebrow and tested, "Jump."

Groot obeyed almost instantly, along with Drax and Philly who was willing to do anything to see some action. The sudden motion caused Peter to lose his balance and land on his backside with a slew of curses. Gamora, who remained effortlessly standing, crossed her arms and jutted a hip out, a motion she'd most likely picked up form Philly.

"Eh, close enough." Rocket decided, nimbly climbing onto Groot's shoulders "Let's get a move on."

The two led the way down the gangplank and onto the surface of Needhart. It was a small independent world run as a democracy. It had no native people that were remembered so Needhart was heavily colonized but only inhabited in a few places so there were only seven major cities.

They had landed in the smallest of these called Brorsc, only classified as a city because everybody thought it was too big to be a town. The streets were cobbled and scattered with uncollected trash and the buildings were all at least three stories tall and smushed together almost like they had been stood up on their sides and melted together in the sun. It was a possibility given how hot it was here. The soft the landed on Brorsc was in the middle of the planet's summer which was only made worse since Needhart was already the second position from the sun in it's system. However, it was a centrally located planet and opened to almost anyone so it was overtiming with refugees from planets that had been destroyed or were over run.

"How do propose we find our target?" Gamora asked, carefully not voicing her own methods. Her eyes were fixed on Groot's back and Philly wordlessly passed the green skinned woman her sun hat. It had a wide brim and covered Gamora's face nicely.

"We ask around, check places a fugitive would go." Rocket shrugged, "If we shake it enough something's bound to fall out."

"What do we shake that will aid us in our quest?" Drax asked in the serious way he had.

Peter patted the destroyer's arm, "It's just an expression. We only focus on the first two."

"…I am Groot." The tree man corrected.

"In most cases." Rocket agreed. "Anyway, the guy we're looking for is a Tolala, average hight for his race with dark red skin and white stripes. Any questions?"

Tolala's were a slender species with no hair, webbed fingers, and wide gills on their necks and hips.

A few hours later Rocket had them all positioned at various locations around the city in pairs. Peter and Drax were posted at a food store, they browsed slowly and bought some supplies while they were inside. For the ship. Gamora and Philly were assigned to check out hotels and living spaces rented out in the last two days. The girls seemed the least threatening and could pretend the Tolala had dated both of them and they were looking to confront him. Philly's story got more elaborate the more places they checked out and Gamora standing behind her and looking uncomfortable only helped sell thing bit.

Rocket and Groot went bar hopping, strictly for business. They asked around the more seedy places for a man fitting the placeholder's description and only they found a lead.

It was their sixth bar of the night and was a little more run-down then the others in the area. They saw their target sitting at the bar, with his eyes fixed on the exotic dancers featured on the stage. He looked like he had not a care in the galaxy.

Groot asked if they should call the others.

Rocket scoffed, "Why? This is textbook bounty hunting, if we can't handle this we might as well retire."

The furred being sat down at an empty table with a view of the door and the target, and Groot picked a chair that didn't block his view. This place was seedy and filled with people who were looking to make a quick chunk of units. If there was a scene here it wouldn't end well for anybody. So they waited for an opening. Or really they waited half an hour before grabbing the target by the scruff of the neck and dragging him outside.

…

With no luck and it steadily getting dark Gamora and Philly headed back to the Milano to find Drax and Peter sitting on the lowered gangplank. They had an assortment of snacks spread out and three glasses a piece, each with a different drink.

"Wow." Philly said, plopping down next to Peter and swiping some cookies form his hand, "you don't waste any time, do you? What's the occasion?"

"I figured if we caught our bounty we could celebrate…and if we didn't we'd need some cheering up."

"You did not have luck either?" Gamora asked the two males.

Peter shook his head, "all dead ends."

"We didn't find anything helpful either," Philly reiterated for the slightly puzzled looking Drax.

"Then I suppose we celebrate our failure?" the destroyer asked looking at their Terrain companion."

"Something like that." Peter shrugged and tossed Philly and Gamora unopened bottles the latter glared at the object like it might spring to life and bite her nose off.

"Don't worry," Philly assured cracking her's open with a snap and a hiss, "Non-alcoholic."

"It's fizzing." Gamora noted warily, almost accusing.

None of the others responded so Gamora, after giving the bottle one last intensive scrutiny, took a small sip. She found it pleasantly tangy with a just enough sweet after taste.

"Xandarian soda-pop." Peter answered when she asked what it was. Gamora took another sip and another, analyzing for alcoholic or any other reason to not drink. She couldn't find any and took a larger gulp. It gave Philly and Peter time to snicker behind her head at the sight of a widely feared assassin drinking something meant for younglings.

The two males told Philly and Gamora about the local food markets and complained about the prices and all the walking. The girls in turn told them about all the places for rent and average living costs.

Through all the chatter and catching up they lounged on the lowered gangplank and watched the stars start to come out, one by one after the sun finished setting and it was safe for them.

It was beautiful to watch on a planet that only had seven major cities and there weren't many lights to compete with them. But by and by, Philly found herself watching, not the sky, but the clock. Rocket and Groot should have been back hours ago and as the time went on and either of them showed up the atmosphere began to somber with the rest of the team's mood.

"They should have been back." Gamora said. Though she played the pronoun game, they all knew who she was talking about.

"Or in the very least contacted one of us." Drax added. Philly pulled out her comm. for the umpteenth time and saw out of the corner of her eye the other's doing the same. None of them had any missed calls.

"Okay," Peter stood so the other three had to literally look up to see him. "They were going after bars, right? We'll go ask around and see what places were open all through the afternoon and see if any of them remember seeing a walking tree and a Rocket with a bad attitude. They're not easy to miss. Philly you and Gamora start down-"

Peter's take charge moment was interrupted by Gamora's comm going off. It was only her's so whoever it was was using Gamora's privet comm number. "Hello?" the assassin asked; her tone was tight and professional. "Rocket." Gamora said simply to the others after a moment. Peter, Drax and Philly visibly relaxed however slightly and pressed closer the the green skinned woman to hear.

It was a mistake, however, because the next thing out of Gamora's mouth was a disbelieving, and very loud, "YOU'RE WHERE?"

Wincing, Peter moved his jaw to try and get his ears to pop, "that doesn't sound good."

…

Across the city in a very dinky prison Rocket hung up his one phone call and let himself be escorted back to the primitive but reenforced cell. He took up the seat next to Groot who couldn't hear the complete sentence the smaller bounty hunter grumbled under his breath but could make out a few explicits here and there.

"Just open the door." Rocket said at a more then audible level, waving a hand at the cell doors that could easily be torn off..

Groot reminded him they had a team that was on their way and that they shouldn't have ditched them.

"We don't need them." Rocket snapped stubbornly, "You and I have always done fine on our own."

They weren't on their own anymore, Groot reminded.

Rocket scoffed, "Yes we are. Or at least we will be."

His taller companion asked what he meant.

"You ever notice there's a distinctive pattern when it comes to us and teams? It doesn't worked out, never has never will."

Insistently, Groot said that maybe this time would be different.

"You saw how we were all at each other's throats last week. You call that a team? I call it a time bomb." Rocket folded his arms stubbornly and fixed his glare at the doors as if trying to melt the bars with ill will alone.

They were learning, Groot reminded and added pointedly that they were all learning.

"We all gonna go up in smoke while Quill is learning?" The smaller bounty hunter shot back.

Quill was trying, Groot countered. So were Drax and Gamora. So was Philly.

"Quill and Blue both think every problem in the galaxy can be solved by friendship and sparkles."

They might not be completely wrong, Groot suggested.

"they're morons, all of them."

They why did you call them?

"Because you wont open the firkin door!" Rocket yelled back. "just do it already, I want to go home!"

To the maroons.

Rocket growled lowly and didn't answer, he saw the tree man had backed him into a verbal corner but refused to admit it. Finely he let out a heavy breath through his nose , "it's not that I completely hate them." He said gruffly and tilted his head up to look his friend in the eyes. "More like sooner or later someone's going to get fed up enough to just leav- Wait, what are you eating?" the tree man froze mid chew with a wide-eyed expression not unlike a youngling who had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

"Did you put something you found in a jail cell in you mouth?"

Groot franticly shook his head which, just like every other time he tried lying, made him look incredibly guilty. A commotion on the other side of the thick door saved him from whatever Rocket was going to say.

It was about five or six males, all yelling at the top of their lungs. After a moment of listening Rocket could pick out Peter's voice, and if he strained Philly's, but none of the words anyone was saying.

The thick door to the room where the jail's three holding cells, the two bounty hunters, and one sleeping drunk were kept, swung opened and hit the wall with a loud clank.

Dressed, not in their normal pirate like garb but business clothes of all things, Peter and Philly strode into the room tailed by a trio of uniformed officers. In almost perfect unison they stopped so the officers nearly collided with them and spun around.

"Let them go at once." Peter demanded in a clipped and serious tone, waving his hand toward Groot and Rocket's cell.

"We-we can't do that, sir." A plump man told them.

Philly's eyebrows rose, "And why not?" she asked in her most condescending voice, stepping forward to completely invaded the man's personal space.

Startled, Plumps stepped back and opened his mouth but only an unintelligible stutter came out. A younger and just as unsure man spoke up instead in a hesitant, confused voice, "They were arrested. We can't let them go until we get orders on what to do with them."

"Orders?" Philly echoed.

"What to do with them?" Peter asked. "Do you know who these two are?"

"Sir, I don't even know _what_ they are." The young officer answered truthfully, taking a half step back now that the pair's attention was directed at him.

"We are from a non-profit organization that exists solely to protect the rights of visiting aliens. These two are from Faketion." Philly said with a completely straight face.

Peter picked up from where she left off, "We understand that our clients were charged with assault with murderess intent. Are you aware that Falutions greet each other with a sound smack to the cranium?"

"It's a common mistake." Philly said

"Happens all the time." Peter agreed.

"But completely unacceptable." The Zeldonian finished resolutely.

"And outrageous!" Peter all but screeched, "you would not believe how much Falutions are discriminated against just because of their traditions."

Peter and Philly started ranting at the same time and saying completely different things making them seem very threatening and very hard to understand. Rocket caught words like 'false arrest' 'suspension' 'superiors' and many BS paragraphs and page numbers in a book that probably didn't exist. The three officers were overwhelmed and so green they might have not even fully graduated yet and had been left alone by a negligent superior; they didn't stand a chance.

Twenty minutes later Peter was ushering Groot and Rocket out the door while simultaneously dragging Philly by the arm behind him. She was still yelling at the top of her voice and threatening to have the bewildered officers suspended.

"If I have to come back here to deal with any of you, mark my words, I won't rest until I have all your badges and you're scrubbing bathrooms with your toothbrushes!"

The present doors swung shut behind them and it was only a half a block before Philly and Peter dissolved into snickers.

"Do you think we might have over done it?" Peter asked, undoing the cheap plaid tie around his neck.

Philly giggled, straightening the front of her blazer with a sharp tug, "Maybe a little. But man, we were in the zone!"

"We were!" Peter agreed, "And so in sync."

"So in sync!" Philly echoed, grinning and skipping as best she could in the tacky heals she wore. "You two alright?"

"Where did you guys come up with that?" Rocket asked instead of answering her.

"We winged it," Peter said at the exact same moment Philly said, "Yondu taught us."

The two briefly glared at each other before resolving into giggles and laughter and they relived the past few minutes over and over all the way to the Milano.

Rocket didn't say anything more, even after they had gotten back to the ship. He silently returned Gamora's frosty glare and for once had no thinly failed insult for Drax's blunt disapproval.

No one seemed to be in a hurry to leave this planet so he lingered in the doorway of the loading ramp and sat through the most exaggerated retelling of the "jail breakout", as Peter and Philly were referring to it. Drax was adding to the conversation, shouting words that didn't make sense where he added them or questioning when one of them used a phrase he didn't understand. Gamora's glare had melted away and she was nodding along as she sipped her drink.

Sitting under the stars on the lading ramp, sipping at the drink that Philly had tossed him, was…not negative, he had to admit, to be ho…here. With the maroons.


	4. Nightmares

**Hello all,**

 **I am slowly editing this story and in the process of getting the first chapter betaed. These first few chapters are introductions of sorts where we see where each member of the team is at and then there will be a plot. I'm too biased to say if it's a good plot but I can promise you there will be one. This chapter centers on Gamora and Drax, as well as exploring their similarities.**

 **Let me know what you think about this chapter,**

 **Pen**

* * *

"Do you know who I am, child?"

Wide eyed, the little girl nodded her head. Tears dripped down her green face as she put all her effort into focusing on the man in front of her and not the two prone forms behind her that were oozing red.

The man's frown deepened making the ridges on his purple chin stand out even more, "Answer me." He commanded. There was a sharp edge to his voice the made the girl flinch back but her feet stood their ground all the same.

"You're Thanos." She whispered. Then said a little louder, "You're hurting my mommy and my daddy!"

The Mad Titan didn't bother to defend himself against the accusation or correct that they were already dead. "Go you know who you are, little one?"

"I-I am called Gamora." The child squeaked. She eyed his blue armor and the shiny gold plating. Her eyes flickered to the empty gilded sheath at his hip then the drawn sword held loosely in his hand. It was not shiny anymore; it was dripping.

Instead of making any move to strike at the girl who had gotten in his way, Thanos lowered his head to look her in the eyes. The little Zabhori was shaking; her bare toes were curled into the floor as a subconscious way to get physical leverage. Her little green hands were raised, not in a defensive manner but fisted as if for a last chance strike should he advance. It was pathetic looking and would have made him laugh had she not purposely been in his way.

"Do I frighten you, Gamora?" The question came like all his other words, a rumble from deep within his chest and an evaluating gaze.

Gamora tried to speak but her mouth was dry. She swallowed but it didn't help much, "You frighten everyone."

"Do you fear many things?"

She found her voice had suddenly vanished so Gamora nodded. Thanos seemed to accept the nonverbal answer this time, seemed even pleased almost.

"I can help you, my child, I can make you strong. Strong enough so you never fear any being below me again." He indicated with his unarmed hand behind her at what was once her mother and father. "I can make sure you never have to feel like this again. Powerless. Weak. I can make it so they all fear you. I can bring you to Sanctuary."

The Mad Titan paused to sheath his sword and extend his armored hand, "Is that something you want?"

…

"NO!" Gamora screamed jolting up like lightning only to be neutralized by how close the ceiling was to her top bunk. The force stunned her and for one terrible moment Gamora forgot everything from where she was to how to breath. All she knew was the hilt of her faithful Godslayer was in her hands so whatever danger there was at least she stood a chance. The retractable sword had been a gift form her fathe- from Thanos. But no matter how the sword had come into her position it was familiar and comforting to know she had a way to defend herself.

There was an awful wheezing sound and Gamora realized it was her. The mighty Gamora was gasping for breath, her lungs and throat burned and her body was shaking just as violently as she had on that day.

These dreams…memories like that had been far less frequent ever since Xandar. Only now when they did come it was with a vivid intensity that tore her apart inside and left a burning ghost pain all over her body. She focused on her breathing and slowly her shaking was reduced to trembling and the occasional odd gasp for oxygen.

"Just breath." She told herself.

…

"Faster!" Koth commanded, cracking his long whip with a sound like thunder. It was not so much the command or the unspoken threat that spurred the half dozen or so younglings on in their sprints. It was the whip, plated with small metal barbs and charged to be heated to a red-hot by a power cell in its hilt. Gamora, along with her sister by choice, a blue skinned girl called Nebula raced side-by-side. Dragging behind each of the girls were thick slabs of steel attached to them by heavy chains and tight harnesses that constricted their rib cages and made breathing available only in short pants.

They were both tied for the second place in the pack, just behind a teenage male Ra'jac. He was tall and well toned from the rigorous training they were put through. He had reptilian like features that included fangs and scales with a gold and black pattern, he had no hair and it was something both Gamora and Nebula with their dark and light hair, respectively, teased him about.

Seth always dominated whatever exercise they did, completing every task, from combat to these endurance tests with an ease his younger 'siblings' secretly envied. Even now he ran several lengths behind but about to lap them. Gamora shot a glance at Nebula who's face was scrunched up in determination, she was leaning forward and her chest was heaving. Nebula pulled forward slightly, then a lot, and Gamora, who was saving her strength, for they had been at this for she knew not how long nor how much more they had to do, was slowly left behind.

She could hear Seth's feet thundering up behind her then, ever so briefly, felt his hand graze her shoulder in as comforting a gesture as they could afford. It was these little things that meant so much in Sanctuary.

"Just breath." He whispered as he pasted.

…

Gamora forced her mind out of the memory with a solid shake of her head and she felt some of the tension in her neck pop. That hadn't been any specific day she'd remembered, or at least not one she could specifically place. Memories like that with muscle pain and over working lungs had to have come form the pre surgery era. It was…well not exactly a happy time. The need for and to seek out happiness was a sign of weakness in the eyes of Thanos so there were no happy times from her time under his rule in her memory.

But it had been the least horrible. There had been others to share the fear, then the pain, and later the hatred that came with the life they had been forced into; others to help bare the sorrow and help hide the weakness. Of coarse no one could do much but a smile here the brush of an elbow there, the smallest of hesitation before a final blow could mean the world to the so-called children of Thanos. They had been forced together and were made a group through suffering and agony. They had been strong and tried to look out for each other.

But none of that mattered in the end. They were all dead. Nebula had betrayed her, or perhaps it was the other way around? Either way Gamora was alone with her thoughts and that was the one thing worse then actually being there.

Her fist tightened around the hilt of her sword until the feeling in her knuckles numbed to nothingness. With a decided flick of her wrist the blade collapsed and folded in on itself until it was a third its previous size. Still holding tight to it, the green skinned woman slid off the top bunk and hit the cold floor with a muffled thud. Gamora didn't have to worry about waking anyone because Philly always slept in the cockpit. This room was more like the pilot's closet then anything else so Gamora basically got a whole room to herself. That suited her just fine. Gamora turned on the light switch and waited until her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. Then she dropped to the floor and braced her feet under the lower bunk. She crossed her arms over her chest and began to work out the nightmare from her body; the familiar and welcome burn through her midsection did nothing to still her mind.

…

Not so little anymore, Gamora focused on her breathing just like Seth told her to. He was right; it helped. It also helped to stare at the fixed point above her just to the right of the blinding surgical lights. There were doctors, three of them, working on her. They talked to each other in her language but used big words she didn't understand. There were noises in the background. She could hear a saw buzzing and feel the shift in her legs. She smelt her own burning flesh and had to force herself not to move. If she moved she would die; either from a surgical mistake or by Thanos' hand. If the later, it would be anything but a mistake and it would be in front of her brothers and sister and because of her own weakness.

Gamora had seen others meet fates such as that for lesser mistakes and renewed the vow each time it would never be her.

She could clearly recall the day Seth spoke out on Nebula's behalf. No longer the small, frightened child that Thanos had first brought to the Sanctuary, Gamora knew better then to show any kind of weakness; especially in front of her father. The Titan looked down upon them, his face was unreadable but his fingers tapped out a slow beat on the arm of his throne. Thanos was displeased.

There were only four of them left at the time and none of them had lasted this long by giving into weakness or fear. They had all learned when in Thanos' presence to be still and not speak unless asked directly and they all knew very well the consequences. Seth knew the consequences. And yet there he was protesting openly. Saying no.

…

Gamora couldn't take it any more. None of her regular coping methods were having any effect, if anything they were making it worse. She got up and swiftly moved out the door and down the hallway, taking care not to wake the others. She turned the corner to the kitchen to find with mild surprise it was not vacant.

"I awoke to a scream." Drax answered her unspoken question when he noticed her, "It sounded like my Hovet."

Gamora sat down at the table across from him, "I am sorry. I…did not mean to wake you."

"It is not of consequence. I have been thinking a lot of her and Camaria lately." Drax added wistfully.

Gamora shifted in her chair, a sign of weakness she would have never allowed herself to indulge in had she been well rested or anywhere else.

"You do not speak of them very often." Gamora said carefully.

Drax sighed, "I can not bring them back by talking about them. The only way I can find peace is to get revenge on the one who had them slain."

"…Thanos killed my family as well." Gamora said after awhile.

The Destroyer's eyes swept over Gamora. One hand was tightened into a fist with the other wrapped around its wrist. Her gaze was fixated on a point, burning a hole into the table top, but she noticed in the corner of her eye.

"My condolences."

"Like wise." There were no more words after that for a little while. Each seemed to be lost in their own thoughts of times past and people loved and lost.

"Why do you think we are having dreams about our pasts lately." Gamora asked slowly, carefully measuring her words.

"You have been having dreams too?"

She nodded and Drax hummed thoughtfully, "Hmmm…perhaps it is because here, now, we are living in a place and with people who remind us of how it used to be. Our minds are afraid of again losing what has become dear to us and is trying to brace us for what it thinks is inevitably going to happen."

Gamora frowned thoughtfully, "…I did not think of it like that."

Both the warrior's heads snapped to the doorway at the sound of heavy footsteps and Rocket's annoyed voice, "The two of you are making it impossible to sleep."

…

Peter was grinning ear to ear as he snuck quietly up to the cockpit. The hatch was closed so he had to use his override code to force it open. He climbed up the steep ladder and casually poked his head through. Just like he suspected, Philly was laying on her stomach with one arm dangling over the side of her hammock and her face mushed into her pillow. He pushed himself up through the hatch and, instead of dumping her to the floor like he normally would have done, poked her nose gently. The pilot stirred, scrunching up her face and rolling over.

"Pssst. Philly, wake up." Peter shook her shoulder.

He got unintelligible mumbling for a response and a blind swat that missed his face by a mile.

"Come on," he said in a whisper yell and giving she shoulders a good shake, "You have to see this!"

When he got no reaction Peter promptly over turned the hammock letting the blue haired woman fall to the floor with a thud. She was on her feet in a flash, spouting her favorite explicits along with, "What's the matter?"

Her Terran friend put his finger to his lips to shush her, "Come on you got to see this!"

She let him pull her down the stairs and down the hall but whined about how tired she was. Peter was kind enough to only lead her into the wall once.

"This better be worth it." She muttered as they rounded the corner.

It was. "Aww..." Philly cooed softly, "they're so cute when they're asleep."

Rocket, Gamora, Groot, and Drax were all slumped against each other around the table in a deep and peaceful slumber.


	5. Homeward Bound

**Hello All,**

 **Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I am not dead, I'm just slowly editing this story and recovering from a semester of school. This chapter is kind of** **fluffy filler but it's okay. I hope to finish and post more chapters a lot more regularly but who knows if that will happen. Let me know what you think of this chapter and this story. It's very separate from GotG Vol. 2 and the story and anything you don't recognize spring from my own warped imagination.**

 **Pen**

* * *

Philly ran around the _Milano_ like a chicken with her head cut off, wielding a cleaning rag and a bottle of very potent cleaning spray, attacking everything that would stay still long enough for her to scrub clean. Peter grumbled and rolled his eyes but didn't out right complain, even when she made him change chairs three times and move his feet off the table so she could scrub it down. Nearing a full decade of living with Philly, he at least knew when to leave her to her own devises and let the blue haired woman go nuts.

The rest of the team, however, did not.

"Would you cut that out!" Rocket growled as she tried to wash the plate he was using before he had finished. With a huff Philly put it back down with a little more force then necessary.

"I have to get this mess at least presentable by the time we get to Rimbor." She threw up her hands in exasperation. "And if you guys aren't going to help me, I have to go non stop. So deal with it."

Gamora stood and cleared away her empty plate, "I think what Rocket is trying to say is that you are being somewhat…" she trailed off and looked to the boys for support.

"Obsessive?" Peter offered.

"Completely out of your mind and slowly drowning the rest of us in bleach." Rocket said.

"Taking up a cause with the devotion of a wounded solder returning home victorious from the field of battle." Drax boomed.

"I am Groot?"

"Yes." Gamora agreed with a short nod. "And it's a little unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?" Philly's fists were propped up on her hips. "If this place isn't spotless within the next five hours we will come knocking on Rimbor like this. I can't show up with a filthy ship!"

Peter sighed, "Philly she's your mom. She lived with you for years, I'm sure Cana is expecting this." He gestured to the rest of the room the same way Philly had just done.

"And that is precisely the reason why I need to show her I'm not that angry teenager who wandered into town." Philly answered back, "I can take care of myself in a level-headed and responsible manner and she can please stop treating me like a youngling."

Peter groaned. "Ugh, fine. What still needs to be done?"

She thought a moment. "The kitchen and the main hall both need to be wiped down, the cargo hold has to be organized so we can at least walk though it in a straight line, and all your rooms need to, at the very least, look okay."

"Well, you heard the lady. Let's go…" Peter's nose wrinkled in disgust, practically biting out the next words, "clean the ship."

…

Philly assigned herself to the cargo hold and enlisted the help of Drax to move the heavy supply crates. With Philly's pickiness and Drax's help the boxes containing things of value, be it theirs or the things Philly just so happened to be transporting across the galaxy under the radar, were moved so they lined the walls. A row of creates holding supplies like food and medical equipment went in front of these as well as getting stacked up to the ceiling and lashed down. Crates of weapons or parts the team used often but should not be paraded down a Xandarian street were mixed in with legitimate, law-enforcement friendly cargo and filled in the unused space in the hold with more then enough room for even Drax and Groot to walk side by side to the loading ramp. What had been affectionately dubbed Groot's Corner was left alone. They made sure the water tap and sun lamp were off and the bag of plant food Groot was working on was closed but other then that, after the wall of crates partially enclosed it again, all that was left was to sweep the floor and dust the walls.

"Good job, big guy." Philly said nodding in approval of their work. "I'll go get the broom."

Drax frowned and Philly asked what was wrong. "Nothing of consequence." He answered. "Only, before today I was unaware we had any sort of cleaning supplies on the ship."

…

Rocket and Groot had been armed with cleaning supplies and assigned to hallways. The cleaner they used now in the Milano was from a pacifist world where the people were part plant. It was designed to not hurt beings like them and, by extension, like Groot. Rocket was grumbling his displeasure to his tall companion and inadvertently Gamora who, working in the kitchen just off the hall, could hear every word.

"Why do we have to clean this stupid hallway? It's not like we're the one's who is seeing their mom."

Groot had given up saying anything. Rocket had started complaining the second he had volunteered them for the task and had only stopped to correct Groot on where to go or what to do. Not that Groot minded the directions; after all, Rocket was scrubbing all the while. The tree man was almost done with the high places and the corners and Rocket was just finishing up on the floor.

They took a moment to look back and inspect their work and heard footsteps too light to be Quill or Drax.

Philly gave a low whistle. "Very nice, you guys. You done with the broom?"

"Yeah." Rocket tossed her a rag. "Wipe ya shoes. We didn't do al this for you to track grim up from the cargo hold. Gamora has it."

Philly complied and practically skipped to the kitchen where Gamora was just putting away the newly cleaned dishes and shutting the now spotless cabinets, making sure the latch caught. The chairs were pushed in and all the food from their earlier meal was stowed.

"Wow…" Philly said. She poked her head back into the hall to make sure it was still clean and then looked back at the kitchen. She repeated three times. "It's so clean." She whispered, as if speaking too loud would break the spell.

Gamora handed her the broom and corrected, "it's so much better."

"So…livable." Philly added, "Good job."

Gamora gave her an off-handed wave and moved on to the drawers. Philly took her leave and said good job to Groot and Rocket again as she pasted them on her way to the hold.

…

Drax left Philly to sweep up and went to the bedrooms. There were three bedrooms on board the _Milano_ , each had a bunk bed built into the wall and a shared closet squeezed into a corner. One room was Rocket and Groot's, one was Gamora's and occasionally Philly's when she wasn't in the cockpit, and the last belonged to Quill and Drax. Quill let the destroyer have the bottom bunk and didn't mind him storing weapons in the closet. And in turn Drax usually didn't mind the Terran's untidy habits.

Today however was a cleaning day and they had all worked hard making sure the ship was more then presentable. So when Drax opened his door to find Peter ankle deep in the things he had collected over the years scattered all over the floor he was…less then pleased.

Under Drax's…persuasive supervision, the situation was soon remedied.

…

All six of them were in the common room. They were all standing so as to not make any mess and have to do any more cleaning. Philly breathed a sigh of relief, there were about five minutes to spare before the ship broke Rimbor's atmosphere and she would have to be up in the cockpit. Aside from Peter, who was scowling because Drax had forced him to put his stuff away, everyone was very satisfied and glad the ship was clean for the first time any one could remember.

"This is so strange." Gamora said breaking the silence.

"The good kind." Philly added.

Rocket scoffed, "too bad it won't last."

"Why would it not last?" Drax asked. Collectively, Rocket, Philly, Groot, and Gamora turned to glare at Peter with varying degrees of accusation. Drax, who caught on and understood much more than he was given credit for, frowned at the Terran, "I see."

…

Philly let the Milano swoop and curve through the clear skies on Rimbor. It was one of the Nova Empire's colonized planets whose cities had spread so fast and grown so much over the decades that now it had nearly enough population to count as a first world planet. It was still just remote enough for a small cruiser to fly into with out checking with the flight control towers if one was careful and know the route.

Philly's adopted mother lived in the country on Rimbor. She owned a farm with a yellow house and a red barn and barley fields that needed someone to fly the old crop duster over every season. Philly had walked off the old ship that had raised her after Tuppie, her mentor, had retired. She'd been sixteen and didn't want to be stuck on the ship for the rest of her life; the port just so happened to be on Rimbor and she had said her good byes and went out on her own. The captain of the ship gave her his number so when she gave up and wanted to come back and do something sensible, she could. His words.

Philly had lasted a whole month before she seriously considered calling for help and asking them to take her back. No one wanted to hire a teenager who was dressed like a street rat who didn't have anyone to vouch for her and no references except her own word about how good she could fly. Desperate, the girl had taken a flyer on the town bulletin board. It was a wanted poster for a crop duster position. The ad said it was low paying but free meals and a place to sleep in the barn if desired.

The woman who ran the farm had three other kids living there, all adopted, two boys, seven and ten, and an eight-year-old girl. The two farm hands, who had also been her adopted children, had just moved out. Also slightly desperate, Cana gave the girl a chance and let her dust crops for the whole season.

Everyone on _Milano_ knew this because Philly wouldn't shut up about it ever since they had decided to visit the farm. So it was a massive relief to everybody when they finely touch downed in a small grassy field, kept cleared as a makeshift-landing pad for when the _Milano's_ crew visited.

An old human woman with hair that was now mostly grey with streaks of black now, instead of the other way around like when Philly had first met her, was waiting on the porch for them. She was short and very plump looking, sitting in one of the five rocking chairs in the shade of the porch. No sooner had the ship settled and the loading ramp had dropped was Cana Resh moving toward it. Philly loped down the ramp and met her half way embracing her in a tight hug.

"Hey, mama."

"My little Philly." Cana smiled fondly at the woman, then opened an arm to the Terran man fast approaching. "Peter."

"Hello Cana." He grinned as the farmer gave the two of them a simultaneous hug, and yelped along with Philly when the two got sharp, simultaneous smacks to the back of their heads.

"Ouch, what was that for?" Philly whined rubbing at the back of her head.

"What were you two thinking?" Cana demanded, hands on her hips, "Getting arrested. Going up against Ronan. You could have been killed."

"Sorry Ms. Resh," Peter let his head drop down guilty. "But there were people in trouble, we had to do something!" He looked as repentant as he could, adding quietly, " Especially since it was kind of our fault in the first place."

"But it was their fault for getting us arrested." Philly pointed at the rest of the team, trying to divert her mother's attention.

"So these are the guardians of the galaxy I've heard so much about." Cana mused, surveying them each in turn. She looked between Peter and Philly and cleared her throat expectantly.

The two promptly made introductions as the whole group moved out of the noonday sun and into the shaded porch. Groot and Gamora were polite, albeit the latter was a little awkward, Drax was much too blunt for formalities and declared that any relatives (on good terms) of his friends were also his friends and Rocket at least played nice after a nudge from Groot.

"I thought Nova wanted to keep us under wraps." Peter said, pushing the over stuffed rocking chair back and forth so aggressively it looked like he might topple over. "How do you know about all this?"

Cana shot him a sharp look. "After you broke out of prison your friend, Corpsmen Dey called asking if I knew where you were."

"What did you tell him?" Philly asked, sitting up.

"The truth." Cana shot her adopted daughter a reproachful look, "I had no idea where you were or how to find you. I was so worried."

Peter and Philly exchanged guilty looks. "Sorry…" They murmured.

Cana sighed, "What's done is done. I'm just so glad all of you are okay."

"So are we." Gamora assured.

"You must be hungry," Cana said. She missed Peter's eager smile and mouthing 'yes'. "I have a roast cooking and it should be ready in about half an hour."

"Any pies?" Peter asked hopefully.

"Three." The motherly woman smiled fondly, patting the man's shoulder assuringly.

The Terrain licked his lips. "Mmmm, you guys are in for a treat!"

…

Peter had not been exaggerating. The roast was cooked to perfection, seasoned with herbs form the garden on the side of the house and so fresh out of the oven it was still sizzling with loud pops. Cana cut it into thick slices, served with fresh boiled potatoes and coleslaw on old chipped white plates with green looping patterns. To Peter and Philly's disappointment, Drax and Gamora got the first plates followed almost immediately by Rocket. Groot was out in the garden enjoying the homemade compost and the country sunshine.

"Guest get served first." Cana admonished the two when they complained. "Now since you have the energy, go get the cups and drinks for us."

Having learned from experience it was no use arguing with the woman who had raised over half a dozen younglings and knew every retort in the book, Philly and Peter hopped up and set about doing as they were told.

"What have you been up to since Xander?" Cana asked setting down two plates at their empty chairs and getting a dinner for herself.

Behind her mother's back Philly shook her head sending Rocket, Gamora, and Drax a warning look.

"We have been trying to figure out how to work and live together in such close proximity," Gamora answered truthfully.

"And how's that going?" No one really wanted to reply and Cana nodded understandingly, "I see. Things like this are always hard to get used to at first but give it a little time and it will get better."

"Hey guess who I ran into a few weeks ago." Philly jumped in to change the subject before her mother could do something drastic like an impromptu therapy session. She liked to meddle in her older children's lives, "Mac. Remember me telling you about him? From the ship."

"Yes," the woman nodded, "you said he is like an older brother to you."

"That's the one." She chirped, "anyway we ran into each other and he gave me a data stick with my baby pictures on it and now I'm giving it to you." She pulled her present out of her pocket with a flourish and presented it proudly to her mother. Philly had found it in her mad cleaning rampage and decided on a whim it would make a nice present.

Her mama squealed like a little girl who'd been offered the toy she'd always wanted, "have any of you seen them yet?"

When she got a no form each of them Cana plugged it into the kitchen monitor, completely ignoring the protest form her daughter.

"Oh, hush girl." She laughed merrily. "What kind of mother would I be if I didn't show your baby pictures to the friends you bring them over?"

"Can't be that bad." Peter told her grinning widely as he stuck his head out the back door. "Hey Groot, come in here, you have got to see this!"

"This is really backfiring on me." Philly mumbled as she sat back down and slowly slumped in her chair

How right she was. There were about fifty pictures in all, they started when she was about seven and went on for about a year afterwards. Most of them had her then white hair in regular pigtails. She was smiling in most of them, some had a younger version of Mac and a Trogodile, some were in a spacious cockpit on something like a large transport or a freighter, one had her completely covered in chocolate head to toe. Peter and her mama cooed and aww'ed at each one of them. Someone, including Gamora, Drax, or Rocket, had a comment or a quip ready.

"Why did I have to be so darn adorable?" Philly moaned burying her face in her hands looking at a shot of her after dumping an entire jar of glitter over her head. She had wanted to be a princess. It was just a phase all little girls went through.

"So this can happen." Peter shot back at her.

…

After three days, many fantastic meals and a tour of the new and exactly the same _Milano_ it was time for them to go. Cana gave Philly and Peter a tight hug and a peck on her cheek, then, to their delight and everyone else's surprise, did them same with Gamora, Rocket, Groot, and Drax.

"Have a safe trip, and come visit any time, sooner the better!"

"We shall." Gamora told her with sincerity.

Cana waved at them non stop as the loading ramp closed she continued until she lost sight of the ship into the twilight sky. "Be safe." She whispered.


End file.
